Beyond the Station
by Shira Lansys
Summary: With all earthly business done, Albus is now free to proceed to his long-awaited afterlife. But does he really want to face what awaits him? An exploration of the after-death relationship between Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindewald. Mentions of ADGG


"It has taken you a while to reach me, Albus. I've been dead quite some time, and it is only just now that I see you."

Gellert Grindelwald surveyed Dumbledore over his steaming mug of tea, reminding the ex-headmaster of the way he had peered at mischievous students countless times in his life. Although, back then, he had been wearing glasses rather than holding a heated beverage.

"I have had matters to attend to." Dumbledore managed to sound calm, despite the emotional turmoil he was actually in. Perhaps Grindelwald saw through this, because his smile was a little too wide and his expression a little too understanding. Grindelwald always had been rather good at discovering the deepest secrets of those who usually kept them close, Dumbledore thought.

"Ah yes. The boy. Your new prodigy, with a heart of gold. I've heard about that."

"Really?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't realise you were kept so up-to-date in Nurmengard."

This caused Grindelwald to smile. "I wasn't. But the news in this place is much better. Mind you, anything would be better in comparison." As he said that, he sent a sharp look at Dumbledore.

"I won't apologise for imprisoning you," the other man told him simply, guessing at what he was on about. "There is much I regret, but your defeat isn't one if them."

"No, that went better than you expected, didn't it? And I don't mean the fact that you won."

"They told me you'd changed," Dumbledore said, deliberately ignoring what the other was implying. "They said you were repentant."

"It didn't stop you from pretending I wasn't there though." Now Grindelwald's voice was bitter in a way that it hadn't been before. Their conversation, up until that point, could have passed for light banter, or a catch up between old friends. After all, it sort of had been, in a very twisted way. The ice in the dark wizard's tone changed that though. "You could have found out for yourself."

"I was afraid," Dumbledore stated, taking a sip of the tea that just happened to be there.

"I know. You always were too afraid to use that greatness of yours. It was really your only weakness." Grindelwald's tone was lighter now, and the chilling atmosphere of the conversation had disappeared.

"You once said that my compassion was my greatest weakness."

"I was wrong."

Dumbledore looked surprised once more. "And perhaps," he said, the twinkle back in his eye, "I was wrong also. Maybe you did change after all."

They shared a smile. "Not so much that you wouldn't recognise me."

"Your ambitions were generally your most recognisable quality. I certainly hope they aren't still the same."

"They aren't."

There was silence for a while, broken only by the routine sipping of tea. It was odd - by now there should be none left, but the cups both seemed as full as when they had started. Dumbledore took the momentary lapse in conversation as an opportunity to survey his surroundings.

They seemed to be in a small tea shop. There were other patrons but it was impossible to make out their faces, nor could Dumbledore perceive their conversations, although the steady buzz of background talking filled the room. It was an odd sort of afterlife by anyone's standards, although not a bad place to meet up with an old acquaintance.

"Once again you attempt to avoid the topic of conversation both of us know we can't avoid, Albus," Grindelwald said, using the same tone of voice Dumbledore had once used to talk to Voldemort - almost sounding condescending.

"We know the answers already, Gellert," Dumbledore said warily. "Is it really necessary for us to go over and over them?"

"Of course it is. The afterlife is for peace, and both of us need to endure this ordeal in order to obtain it. Why didn't you visit me in Nurmengard?"

"I was afraid of confronting the truth about Ariana's murder." At King's Cross, Dumbledore had already confronted his demons about her, and the sentence almost rolled of his tongue.

"Is that all you were afraid of, Albus?" Grindelwald asked. Dumbledore hesitated.

"You always did have a way with words…" At Dumbledore's words, Grindelwald leant back in his chair, a pleased smile worming across his face.

"No, not with words, exactly," Dumbledore continued. "But with me. You made me see past your faults and flaws, past even my own morals. You blurred what was right and wrong. If you had told me, all those years ago, that the sun was actually a giant firefly…if you had told me that at the right time, in the right way, I would have believed you."

Grindelwald's smile wasn't quite as wide now, as Dumbledore's voice grew sad once more.

"I was afraid that, even after defeating you, you would convince me that you had changed. I was afraid you would talk me into letting you out. Or worse, you would trick me into joining you again."

"Trick?" Grindelwald asked. "I never tricked you into anything.

"No, you didn't," Dumbledore said. "That was unwarranted of me to say. I was as much at fault at you."

"You think I used you." It was a statement, not a question, but once Dumbledore responded to by nodding regardless.

"Not used me, per say. But you did take advantage of my…feelings towards you." Grindelwald opened his mouth to reply, but Dumbledore interrupted. "No, don't deny it. You may have never brought them up, but I know you were aware of them."

"Not at the beginning," Grindelwald said softly. "Please understand, Albus, that I wasn't manipulating and conniving the entire time. I may have done some evil things, but I wasn't completely evil myself. I was still human."

The look Grindelwald cast at Dumbledore was almost pleading.

"Regardless, you used my feelings. My…attraction… my loneliness..."

"Not at first. When I first met you, I was as lonely as you were. I wanted a friend, and you were there - the perfect match. Everyone else was beneath me; in intellect and in power, but you…you were the same. You were clever and powerful and lonely. It wasn't until our differences became as apparent as our similarities that I found it necessary to, as you so bluntly put it, "use you"."

"When you…when you convinced me to leave…" Dumbledore was hesitant, and it was as though he was a seventeen year old once more, confronting the possibility of his first relationship with the boy he was convinced that he loved.

"I meant what I said. I would have done whatever it took to convince you to stay by my side."

"But you didn't feel the same way?"

"No. Nor did I profess to, even then. But you wanted a relationship with me - as more than friends - and I would have willingly played the part of your lover."

"Only played?" The hurt in Dumbledore's voice was enough to make Grindelwald wince. It was amazing how many years a wound of the heart could last.

"My belief was that you were the only person who I could have considered an equal. I was not then interested in any sort of romance, but when I considered it in the distant future my conclusion was that reciprocating your feelings would be my best option. It wasn't too much of a stretch for me for this to happen sooner than I had planned."

"Do you…do you know which of us killed my sister?" Dumbledore asked. Grindelwald smiled.

"I though you would never ask. It's only taken you about a hundred and fifty years to face the truth."

"Then you know the truth?"

"Alas, I know no more than you. She doesn't know either."

"You've spoken to her?"

"You haven't?"

"I was afraid of her blame."

"I don't think you need to fear that. She didn't even blame me, and I was more at fault than either you or Abeforth."

"I should go see her."

Grindelwald laughed. "One set of demon's at a time, old friend. Merlin knows that you have enough of them."

"I don't suppose you've spoken to Merlin, have you?"

Grindelwald laughed again. "Your ambition hasn't left you either, it seems. And no, I haven't. Only the people whose deaths I've caused."

"You are trying to find redemption then?"

"Indeed. I fear I will never reach it, but I will do the best I can."

"Is that why you are talking to me?"

"I think I would talk to you even if I were not interested in making amends. And I might want to make amends even if I wasn't searching for forgiveness from my sins. Redemption is only a small reason."

"I see."

There was silence for a while.

"I am sorry, Albus. For everything."

"I see that now."

"It doesn't change the pain I caused you though, does it?"

"Nothing will ever change that."

"Did you…after me, did you ever find another?"

"Did I ever fall in love again? No, no I did not."

"That makes me feel even worse."

"Who else was there, Gell?" Grindelwald winced as Dumbledore returned to using the name he had not called him since they were boys, but the other man continued. "I feel that I am being boastful and possibly a little big headed, but there was no one else my equal except you."

"So you spent your life alone?" If Grindelwald hadn't had a single kind thought while he was alive (although Dumbledore thought he had) then he more than made up for it in the compassion he felt now.

"I had friends. Well, I had acquaintances. I would have liked to say I had my brother, but he no longer wanted anything more to do with me. Do not look so sad, Gellert, I was not utterly unhappy. I loved greatly and deeply, and accomplished much more than most wizards can ever hope to achieve. You did not take everything from me."

"But I did take."

"Only a little. I chose to let you leave. I could have chosen love over my morals, and run away with you after Ariana's death."

Grindelwald looked even more distressed by this. "You shouldn't have had to choose at all!"

Dumbledore chuckled at this exclamation. "I never would have guessed," he explained as Grindelwald shot him a questioning look, "that I would spend my afterlife defending your actions from yourself."

"If you could go back Albus, would you? If you could change it?"

"I would. Despite my fear I would make the same mistake, I would have liked a second chance. But I learned a long time ago not to live my life considering the 'what-if's."

Grindelwald hesitated. "We could…now that there are no consequences…you know, I can't convince you to go against you morals now you are dead…"

"You are not making much sense, Gellert," Dumbledore informed him pleasantly, but warily.

"I could make it up to you. This is your afterlife, your heaven, if you will. I could give you what you always wanted."

Dumbledore knew what he meant. "And in that reasoning, do you see this as your redemption, your hell? Your punishment for your mortal crimes is making me happy? You know very well that would do exactly the opposite."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. You wouldn't do it out of a sense of punishment, but to satisfy your guilt. It is not much better. You cannot make it up to me by giving me false love."

"What if it wasn't false?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but it was not with laughter now. Grindelwald saw the pain in his old friend's eyes.

"I did love you. I may have used you, but I still loved you in my own way. Not the way you loved me, but perhaps I could have, given time. We have that time now - the rest of eternity."

"Is this your idea of redemption, Gellert?" Dumbledore asked again, his tone sad and final. "Because I cannot do that. The ship has sailed - it left a long time ago."

"Please Albus," Grindelwald asked, once more. "Please."

Dumbledore hesitated.

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, this a respost. Sorry if you've read it before; I've changed accounts and I liked this too much to not post again. I hope I got them both in character. Please R&R!**


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